


in fact, it felt like light rain

by cinnamonczerny



Category: Dead Poets Society (1989)
Genre: Dead Poets Society - Freeform, Gay, Library, M/M, Poetry, School, uh what do i tag lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-14 09:06:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9172516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinnamonczerny/pseuds/cinnamonczerny
Summary: By mistake, Todd is asked to collect a book from the staffroom. Immediately afterwards, Mr Keating remembers Todd's inept ability to converse. So he sends Neil, too.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I love DPS so much, but I love anderperry even more aha. So here's a fic about Todd's anxiety with socialising, and Neil attempting to make him feel better. :")
> 
>  
> 
> Also, the poem is mentioned in the story, but there is an extract from the poem Funeral Blues somewhere in there, by WH Auden.

As the morning sun splattered through the windows, it appeared to dance with Mr Keating while he twirled around the room declaring a series of quotes, rhymes, and names. He occasionally paused in his monologues to consult the chalk board, only to scratch a pattern of white over a field of green; the screeching chalk could be considered annoying in other classes, but it added a sharp note to the melody of the English class. The boys listened intently to what Mr Keating was saying, as if his words cured illnesses, shattered sunsets, and calmed oceans. His hands held the creativity which fueled the wonder pooling in each boy's eyes. You could say they were in a trance. Or you could observe that it was the first lesson of the day, and they were all half-asleep.

However, one boy didn't notice that the hand movements had suddenly stopped, and the harmonic speech had ceased. Todd blearily stared at his pencil, pondering the dead poets meeting that had ended at 1am that morning. 

"Mr Anderson."

Todd immediately looked up. His hazy morning abruptly cleared, revealing his teacher staring at him. He mumbled a quiet "yessir" and put his pencil onto the desk. 

"Go to the staffroom, and grab my book of poems by Byron, will you?"

Confused, Todd glanced at the board, noticing a scribbled-over quote from an undeniably Lord Byron poem. His hands began to shake as realisation, anxiety, and fear struck a storm in his head. Wonder didn't flicker in his eyes, instead, they had clouded over. He remained in his seat, despite willing his body to move. Talking to teachers terrified him, especially since the staffroom contained a nest of them, and potentially Mr Nolan. He wished for control. 

A few seconds passed before Mr Keating remembered Todd's inept ability to converse. He sighed, but acted quickly. 

"Mr Perry. Go with him."

Both boys instantly stood up at this, and walked in silence towards the door. They left the room hearing faint snickering, and Mr Keating jokingly saying "make sure Todd is the one to ask for it."

Neil shut the door carefully, trying not to disturb the reconvened class. Upon making sure it was definitely closed, he turned to his friend and let his eyes nail into Todd. He held a question in his features. Todd chose to stay silent. 

"You unquestionably have a problem with it."

"With what?" 

They both ignored the slight tremor in Todd's voice. Speech was a puzzle that he had not yet mastered, and throwing around words was like throwing rocks into a frozen lake before stepping on it. Silence settled into their steps, and it only dissipated once they had rounded the corner. With a single movement, Neil reached for Todd, pushing him against the corridor wall. The other boy didn't attempt to fight, for he trusted Neil. Instead, he waited, expectant. Neil was a spark that fed on the extraordinary. 

"So it takes at least ten minutes at normal pace to go all the way across the school to the staffroom," he spoke quickly, his hand tapping the wall in time with each word, as if he was thinking up his plan as he said it, "which means that if we run, we'll have at least five minutes to spare." 

By half-way through Neil's sentence, Todd was already laughing. He loved the excitement in Neil's expression at a sheer few minutes of freedom. 

"But I thought you loved Keating's class" Todd replied, his sensibility seeping into his laughter. 

"I do, but there's something I want to show you afterwards."

Leaving Todd behind, Neil sprinted down the corridor, to the stairs, and got half way down them before Todd began running, too. The floorboards creaked, and their shoes created a resonant clanging sound, but they didn't care. Usually, the stairs were crowded with boys and teachers, each person heading for a different direction. Currently, however, it belonged to Neil and Todd. They were so determined in running without tripping that they missed the teacher heading up the staircase, while they were heading down. 

"YOU BOYS BETTER SLOW DOWN AND EXPLAIN YOURSELVES." 

The sound of his shout replaced the sound of their footsteps. Without hesitation, both boys halted, although one boy glanced at the floor, and the other proceeded to take another step. 

"Ah, we're sorry for disrupting your walk, sir." Neil glanced at Todd before carrying on, "You see, Mr Keating was in a hurry to read a poem, and he needed it quick to prove a point so we were running to get the poetry book from the staffroom, sir." 

Todd carried on glaring at his shoes, but the amazement was tranquil on his face. Meanwhile, the teacher patted the book he was holding on his leg, and considered what to do next. Finally, he nodded disbelievingly, but let the boys carry on walking - he put emphasis on the walking - to the staffroom. When the teacher was out of sight, Todd let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding. Neil chuckled at the evident surprise scattered on Todd's face.

"I don't understand how you can come up with an excuse and talk so simply without thinking about the words." Todd whispered, allowing his line of sight to swiftly pass over Neil before returning to the floor. His hair had fallen into his eyes, obscuring the majority of Neil's facial expression. As instantaneously as before, Neil strode over the little ground between them, and pushed the hair back from Todd's vision. They stayed in this position for a minute, watching, and observing each other. Neil was the first to break the silence:

"I'll race you to the staffroom."

"But I'll win." 

They set off once again, but made sure to be quieter this time. The pictures of previous students could only view the two running boys for mere seconds until they had disappeared down the maze of corridors. For a few seconds, it was clear that Neil would win, but Todd somehow changed the gears on his speed, and raced past Neil, stopping himself on the wall outside the staffroom. Their laughs were breathless, and filled with fatigue yet excitement. Neil paused for a second.

"See, you may not be a great talker, but you're a great action taker. You can run pretty quick."

"Oh yeah, actions speak larger than words and all that shit." 

Todd laughed unconvincingly and knocked on the staffroom door. When it opened, Neil ambled in, and asked if anyone had seen a poetry book by a poet named Byron. Within two minutes, they had the book, and were standing in a random corridor. 

When it was clear Neil wasn't going to say anything, Todd asked, "So, what did you want to show me?"

Smiling, the boy pointed vaguely in the direction of the library. At this point, neither of them cared about how much time they had wasted. Todd was anticipating what Neil wanted to show him, and Neil was just happy to be with Todd. 

Piles of bold coloured books toppled on multiple desks throughout the library. The smell was of dust and parchment which covered the shelves like a spider's web. Like the many times he had been there before, Neil wandered across the crusty carpet, and headed towards the poetry section. It wasn't a large library, but the bookcases were tall which made a viewer feel significantly small. Stories surrounded them, silently watching Neil search for a particular book, and then, a particular poem. 

Todd settled himself onto a desk in the corner of the room, hidden from the spot where the librarian was most likely to walk in. Neil followed, and sat on the window sill, his silhouette contrasting to the bright sunlight. They both felt warm, and comfortable. 

"I wanted to tell you my favourite poem. It's called Funeral Blues by W H Auden."

Todd smiled at his friend, and finally relaxed, swinging his legs back and forth below the table. When Neil began reading, Todd thought of how his voice resembled the sound of distant streams, and rustling leaves. Until, he focused on a specific part of the poem, and noticed a difference. 

"He was my North, my South, my East and West,  
My working week and my Sunday rest,  
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;  
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong."

He observed that the poem was about love, and that it was written by a man for a man, and that the person's lover had died. It made him feel morose in the midst of the morning light. He was thinking so much that he didn't look up when Neil had finished reading the poem. He stopped swinging his legs, and noticed that Neil was watching him. This was when a thought began to whisper in his brain. But it wasn't a storm. In fact, it felt like light rain.

Neil stayed sat on the window sill, while Todd stood up, then sat down, then stood up, mumbled inaudibly and finally, kissed Neil.


End file.
